We squeak inside and always lie
with happy faces in broad daylight
we are teared down
like paper in pieces
still we smile
as though we are stiched in all the places
we hide and cover
so , that no one discovers
like it’s a crime to come up
with the problems we suffer
Isn’t now the time
to come up in light
To express the hues
we suffer all alone in complete dark night
Foot in the door 